Meantime
by Artful Dabbler
Summary: An Order of the Phoenix 'insert'. The evening after Harry's hearing at the Ministry, while Molly makes meatballs, Lupin confronts Sirius in a conversation that really needed to happen. Wolfstar


**Author Note: A little fic I wrote years ago. Trying to decide if another chapter is needed. Your thoughts? **

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"Remus, have you seen Sirius recently?" Mrs Weasley asked, setting a steaming soup tureen on the kitchen table in the basement at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. For all the excitement surrounding Harry's disciplinary hearing that morning, the day had otherwise been long and uneventful. Kingsley Shacklebolt had arrived straight from the Ministry and was deep in conversation with Mr Weasley by the airing cupboard. George had been pressed into service to keep an eye on the bubbling pan of meatballs on the stove, while Hermione was busy setting out plates, cups, and cutlery. Lupin looked up from the saucepan he'd been scrubbing. His expression was as worn and thin as his waistcoat.

"No, I haven't. Not since lunch, in fact," he replied, turning to look over his shoulder. Mrs Weasley gave the ceiling a look she usually reserved for the twins when they tested her patience.

"_Tsk!_ I do wonder sometimes where he keeps himself in this batty old house. Harry, dear, would you go see if you can find your godfather? Tell him that dinner is nearly on the table."

"I'll go, Molly," Lupin said, ignoring the look of – was it disappointment? – on Harry's face. The boy had already risen from his seat by the fire where he and Ginny had been playing a game of Wizard Chess. "I think I know where he's hiding," he lied. "I'll get him."

Lupin dried his hands on the tea towel thrown over his shoulder. On arriving in the entrance hall, he strode past the curtained portrait of Mrs Black, preferring not to wake her. Lupin generally relied on his long legs to take him through the hall in the fewest possible steps, though all the regulars at Number Twelve agreed that sneaking past the violent-tempered painting was somewhat of an art, and had their own theories as to how it was best done.

With only a quick glance into the downstairs parlour, Lupin made his way to the first floor to look in on Buckbeak. The massive, winged creature was well settled in Mrs Black's old room. Lupin found the beast lying on the tattered hearthrug, happily munching on a smoked pig knuckle, though, to his disappointment, with no Sirius keeping him company. He continued on down the hall, trying first one door, then the next, the next, his concern rising with every empty room he threw open.

The second floor proved empty as well.

Lupin took the stairs two at a time to the third floor, his heart racing before the climb began. He was beginning to be annoyed with himself as much as with Sirius. _He's here in the house somewhere, you old fool. There's no need to worry_, he reasoned inwardly. _It's not like you've lost him again_. Lupin's attempts to find him were turning out to be as efficient as Harry's would have been, yet he was determined in any case to have the opportunity to speak to Sirius alone. As far as he was concerned the current state of affairs had gone on quite long enough.

Lupin's gut seized uncomfortably, anticipating what promised to be an unpleasant encounter. Before he lost his job, Lupin had never wished to interfere with the natural course of things, if a werewolf was allowed make such a claim. Perhaps is was because he had been forced to leave his post at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but it was time for him, as it would be for them all before long, to stop being a passive spectator in his niche of the world, and instead take action when and where action was needed. And if he couldn't bring the nuisance of a man to his senses, no one could.

Breathing deeply, Lupin made his way to the closed door at the end of the hall. He was guided by the golden light of tarnished candelabras, most bearing a delicate mantle of dust-laden cobwebs, which were stationed like guards along the length of the narrow third floor hallway. Instinctively he knew, even at a distance, that he had come at last to the right place. He knocked softly on the heavy walnut door.

There was no answer, audible or visible, but Lupin was not deterred. He knocked a second time, more forcefully than before. This time, after the space of a few seconds, he heard a muffled response from somewhere beyond the door. He turned the blackened doorknob and let himself in.

"Since when have _you_ started knocking?" Black asked.

"Since you've started shutting me out," Lupin replied shortly. It was not the start he would have liked.

By the dim light shining in from the hall, he could make out the shadowy outline of Black's boot and maroon trouser cuff. He was lying diagonally across the green silk bedspread. Lupin faintly recalled that this room had been Sirius' father's. Why Black should want to hide himself there, though his own bedroom was one floor below them, he could scarcely guess.

To close the door, Lupin knew, would mean returning the room to darkness, but theirs was to be a conversation unsuitable for open doors, even in such a remote corner of the house.

"I shut you out, do I? Well, you seem to have no trouble pushing back in."

"Sirius," Lupin began again, an edge of tired frustration sharpening his voice. He leaned heavily on the closed door.

"Well, really. A door is usually shut for a reason. Sometimes, it's because the person on the other side wishes to be left alone."

"_Sirius_," he repeated. For all the hardships that Lupin had experienced over the course of his difficult life, nothing made him feel more worn, or made him more keenly aware of his approaching fortieth birthday, than the belligerent tone that Sirius usually took with him when he was nursing a wounded ego.

"Why did you come up here, Moony?" Black continued, testily.

"Firstly, to tell you that Molly wants you downstairs for supper."

"Well now, thank heavens you came."

"You've been up here all afternoon, haven't you?"

"So what if I have?" Black spat, defensively. "Fat lot of good I do anywhere else, either in the house or out of it, upstairs or downstairs, so I might as well keep out of the way, mightn't I?"

"You have to stop, Sirius. Please, this isn't healthy." Lupin heard a humourless chuckle.

"Healthy? You, of all people, talking about 'healthy', to me. What is that, hmm? I haven't known health these last fourteen years. I've forgotten what 'healthy' is."

"It isn't this." Lupin replied, raising his voice.

"Why did you really come up here, Remus?"

"Because, frankly, I've had enough!"

"Then you might as well leave."

"Sirius, there is an angry, confused young man downstairs who positively thinks the world of you, like family. More than that, you're the only real connection he has to the life, the _lives_, that were torn away from him. And right now he's suffocating under the weight of experiences you and I could scarcely imagine when we were his age. Think about that for a second, would you?"

Sirius moved only to pass a hand over his face, but said nothing.

"You think you do no good in this house? He needs you, Sirius, and when you're there for him, he looks up to you like no other. But when you're not, when you hide away inside your own house, inside your own head…consider what you're teaching him. Look at the message you're sending him."

Lupin heard Sirius let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding.

"I can't understand, Sirius. I honestly can't. When you broke out of Azkaban, Harry was the first person you went looking for. With every wall that stone and magic and rumour can build between you, even with all those eyes trained on him, Dementor eyes, you went after him. Before you came after me, even," he added, quietly, "the only friend you had left who would welcome…" he broke off, suddenly without the power to finish the thought. "You've risked so much; and now that you have the opportunities that you nearly _died_ for, you're letting them pass you by. I don't understand that."

Sirius sighed deeply and Lupin heard him shift on the bed.

"It's been fourteen years, for goodness' sake. I'm not the man you knew, Remus," he said sadly, after a pause. "I'm not the man you—"

"Yes."

"I'm not."

"You are," Lupin countered insistently, stepping forward. He could see where Sirius lay by the faintest orange light, which had somehow managed to seep through the grime-glazed windows on the far side of the room. He sat down, the old mattress sagging under his slight frame. "You are the same stubborn, proud, thick-headed Padfoot I have always known. You're as moody, as inconsistent, as reckless. Don't you think for a single minute that I don't remember the way things used to be. What I remember might astound you."

Lupin put out his hand to find the soft hair by Sirius' face. He pulled on the locks gently, letting the curls slide between his fingers. He felt Sirius relax beneath his touch, and turn his head so that Lupin's knuckles brushed against his temple. Warmth spread like liquor through Lupin's chest – a warmth only such simple closeness could bring for one so used, now, to being alone.

"I had to. Well, I thought I had to," Black said in a nearly voiceless whisper, "I tried to find Harry first because, of anyone I knew, he deserved to know the truth first. You can understand that, can't you? James's little boy… I meant to tell him that night we saw each other near his uncle's house. When I finally came face to face with him, I suppose I froze. He didn't know me, of course. But I knew him. He looks so much like James! I suppose it caught me off guard. I realised what a stupid idea it was. It would have been too much. He looked frightened. I would have only driven him off. I knew I had to wait for the right moment."

"He's here, Sirius. He's downstairs right now, just like you've wanted for months, longer even. He misses you, and you're under the same roof! And he's not the only one who misses you."

From beyond the closed door of the bedroom they heard a crash, like a tumbling of small metal objects, and the unmistakable sound of Kreacher cursing under his breath as he gathered them back up again. Lupin made to rise from the bed to investigate, but Black shot his hand up quickly to grab hold of Lupin's shoulder, preventing him from going.

"Leave him. It's not important," Sirius said dismissively, but with his hold still firm on Lupin's shoulder. "Is that a tea towel, Moony?"

Lupin smiled faintly and pulled the damp terry rag from his shoulder and let it fall into his lap. Sirius' hand slid heavily with it.

"Please, I'm serious," Lupin said softly.

"No, Moony, I'm…"

Lupin grabbed a handful of Black's hair and gave it a tug to stop the joke before it was made. "I'm in earnest, then! Harry's not the only one who misses you, who's struggling with your distance these days. You're not the only one who's been…aff-affected. It hasn't been easy for me, either," he whispered as he felt a shudder move through his frame. "I've sworn to Dumbledore that I'll do whatever he asks of me, in the service of the Order. It nearly cost me my life once, though I've been forbidden to share such business with anyone - not even with other members of the Order, for the time being. I really shouldn't be telling you."

His eyes having adjusted to the dim light, Lupin could see that deep concern had swiftly transformed Black's face upon hearing this. By the flash of his eyes, Lupin knew that Sirius was studying the thin scars and lines which marred his face, as he had done a thousand times before, perhaps searching for new and unfamiliar ones. No doubt, he found them easily enough.

"So that's where _you've_ been disappearing off to?"

Lupin nodded. Sirius considered him a moment longer before continuing.

"Of course you should tell me. Of course you should, no matter what Dumbledore says. You should _always_ tell me." The tone of Sirius' voice had grown darker, just for the time it took him to utter Dumbledore's name. Lupin was afraid that revealing the danger that he himself had been placed in only served to lengthen the list of grievances that Sirius held against the Hogwarts headmaster. He prayed that it wouldn't further cloud his judgement. Lupin rested his fingers on Sirius' chest, and felt his heart beating swiftly beneath it.

"After you were taken," Lupin murmured, "to prison, we were both alone in our own ways, suffered in our own ways. And still we hide in our own corners, even though we…" Lupin faltered. "We aren't the boys we used to be, true, and it _has_ been fourteen very long, very difficult years, but I for one still need your friendship, your companionship. Now perhaps more than ever. Am I alone, even in that, Sirius?"

Lupin felt Sirius' touch on his stomach, felt his fingers slide between the buttons of his waistcoat.

"I've been a fool. A damn fool too stubborn to see how foolish I've been. And I've forgotten what it means to have you around to remind me of it. But I promise you, Remus: so long as I live, you will never be alone. I promise you."

Sirius seized the fabric of his waistcoat as their eyes locked for the first time since Lupin had entered the room. Emotion of several kinds flooded through Lupin as Sirius' words sank in. He doubted that Sirius truly realised how much they meant to him. Sirius, meanwhile, was pressing his lips firmly together in what appeared to be a look of fresh determination.

Sirius pulled him down. Pins and needles prickled in Lupin's hands and feet as he let himself be drawn. His sandy hair fell across his eyes as he moved, but then Sirius' pushed it to one side again as he held Lupin's face. The palm that cupped his cheek was warm and smooth. He brushed his thumb across Lupin's lips.

Lupin shut his eyes. He was afraid that even the faint light would be too great a distraction, would pull some fraction of his attention away from his gentle touch. Blindly, he closed the gap between them and felt Sirius draw his mouth to his own. The kiss was soft and tentative, like the first ones they had shared back in their school days, in the common room long after the others had gone up to bed.

It was a relationship they had guarded against the whole world, too precious, even, for their closest friends to know of. Back then, Lupin's hands and knees had shaken uncontrollably as he explored those new experiences, so surprising to him yet feeling so comfortably, genuinely _right_.

At present, his hands were steady as he pushed his fingers into Sirius' hair, tangling them in his curls. Sirius responded, raising himself onto his elbows. He deepened his kisses, so firm that they belaboured his breath. Lupin pulled at Sirius' velvet collar, brought him upright, anchored him. Through his jacket, Lupin could feel how thin Sirius had remained, even after a year of recovery. Sirius tasted like ruby port. He whispered against the corner of Lupin's mouth, though the only word he was able to make out through the rushing in his own ears was 'never'. Lupin, his eyes still firmly shut, felt overwhelmed. He prayed for the second time that evening - that he wouldn't suddenly wake up, and that this was not all just a wonderful dream. He bent his head to nip at Sirius' neck. Knowingly, Sirius stopped him with the press of his cheek.

"Not now. There isn't time," he breathed softly.

Lupin couldn't help but smile, though his insides were in knots. He knew that as soon as they emerged into the light, Sirius would see the flush that had risen in his cheeks. He pulled away, but not before he clapped Sirius firmly on the side of the face.

"Shall we go down to supper, then? Molly will be wondering," he said, standing a bit shakily.

"Molly's always wondering, the busybody," Sirius replied, taking hold of Lupin's proffered hand and pulling himself up. He paused a moment to run his hands through his mess of curls and shake them back into place. Lupin seized the opportunity to lean over and press his lips again. Sirius smiled and shoved him away playfully. "_And_ we should find out what Kreacher's been up to. Hoarding my mother's shoe buckles, no doubt. What's for supper?"

Lupin paused where he stood, smiling more broadly even than before. "Don't ask me what's for supper."

"What? Why not?"

"You'll only make a joke of it."

"Why?"

"Don't ask me."

Sirius gave Lupin a suspicious look while his friend struggled to contain himself. "Fine then," Sirius said. "On second thought, maybe I'll just stay up here."

Lupin chuckled contentedly, actually feeling content for the first time in years, and pushed Sirius out through the opened door.

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**Everyone needs a little R&R! Thanks for reading :)**


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